


When Your Heart Whispered Back

by SOABA



Series: Just Write! Bingo [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon Died a Horrible but Necessary Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It, Kidnapping, M/M, Torture, mpreg discussion, trope bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:28:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24776914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SOABA/pseuds/SOABA
Summary: Asmodeus kidnaps Sam so that Gabe will cooperate with his dark designs - it is the biggest mistake that the Prince of Hell could have possibly made.
Relationships: Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Series: Just Write! Bingo [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1419055
Comments: 12
Kudos: 89
Collections: Just Write! Trope Bingo





	When Your Heart Whispered Back

**Author's Note:**

> Goodness gracious, this turned out to be way longer than I thought it would be. Mind the warnings in the tags, you guys, because I promise they are there for good reason. I played fast and loose with Canon - you guys really should expect that from me, by now.
> 
> This is part of my Just Write!Bingo series but has no sequel or prequel in the works and definitely stands on its own; the trope prompt was ‘Fix-It’. This is story number one of my first Trope Bingo set - I hope to complete all sixteen stories and call ‘Blackout’ this go-round.
> 
> Remember, non-consensual con-crit is BAD people and I will delete it without bothering to respond; I write fanfic for my own amusement, first and foremost. I hope you all enjoy!

_“Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back.”_

\- Plato

* * *

**_When Your Heart Whispered Back_ **

“Acamar, Achernar, Achird, Acrab, Acrux, Acub-”

An inadvertent grunt of pain slipped past Gabriel’s lips, suspending the whispered recitation of his Father’s stars, as the demon standing behind his strung up person cracked the burning rod of buloke on the same place for the nineteenth time in only a few seconds. It was the first reaction that Demon Bastard Number Forty-Three had managed to elicit from Gabe since that particular _session_ had begun almost two days earlier and only the fifth time he had slipped up since being sold to Asmodeus months earlier - the so-called Prince of Hell and his minions were little more than poorly trained dancing monkeys compared to what Michael had been capable of. Gabe was infuriated by his lapse in composure, partly because, as far as torture devices in Hell went, a cane bathed in fire was hardly the worst instrument of torment that one could be subjected to, and because the occurrence spoke to his slowly waning levels of resilience and defiance.

He hated admitting it, even in the privacy of his own mind, but his endurance had an expiration date.

Demon Bastard Number Forty-Three chuckled in dark pleasure and then wrapped an arm around Gabe’s bare waist, pressing its form against the bloody mess that it had made of Gabe’s backside with a predictable lack of care for the hurt the action caused, “Things would be so much more pleasant for you, Trumpeter, if you just gave in to our Master’s desires. Aren’t you tired of pain?”

As if Gabriel’s suffering would end should he capitulate to Asmodeus - the chief denizen of Hell wanted him broken completely, not just a little bit, and forcing Gabe to surrender on the Grace issue was only the first strategic move of many in Asmodeus’ playbook.

“Asmodeus is _not_ my master,” Gabe countered through gritted teeth, his tone as waspish as he could make it.

“Though, I must admit that I’m _devilishly_ pleased you’ve been so uncooperative about sharing your power with him up for so long,” the demon crooned into Gabe’s ear without acknowledging the Archangel’s assertion. “Master gave me permission to try something new if my other methods failed to persuade you to see reason. I get to give you something far more interesting than your ancient horn to blow on.”

His clothing had been destroyed early on in his captivity - turned into rags by the first two Demon Bastards he had faced and then burnt of his body with torches of holy fire wielded by the third - but no kind of sexual violation had yet been among the plethora of torments that Gabe had experienced as the main attraction of Asmodeus’ carousel of agonies. He had known it was coming, had known that the Demon of Lust would ensure Gabe was subjected to carnal tortures eventually, but he had hoped that either Asmodeus’ fiercely possessive nature would protect him from the other demons using him in any ignominious fashion _or_ that he would find a way to escape. Since he had gone on the run from Heaven, Gabe had discovered that there were very few things he liked more than sex and he was both livid that Asmodeus was intent on ruining it for him and absolutely terrified. Rape would break him more quickly than almost anything else because it was such an intimate kind of violence, because he could be forced to physically enjoy what was being done to his body against his will if his assaulter were so inclined to ensure that.

Gabe forced himself to keep his breathing steady in spite of the looming threat and began to murmur again, “Adhafera, Adhara, Adhil, Ain, Ainalrami, Aladfar.”

The demon moved just far enough away from him to wind the crank that controlled how much give, of which there was rarely any, that the chains keeping Gabe’s arms up over his head had. Demon Bastard Number Nine had gleefully demonstrated that, when the mechanism was cranked far enough clockwise, Gabe’s body could be stretched until muscles tore and joints snapped apart thanks to the matching shackles around his ankles that kept him tethered to the floor of his dank, dirty cell.

Gabe’s hands fell as the crank was wound sharply to the left and he wobbled slightly due to his legs having not held his full weight for several weeks, “Alamak, Alasia, Alathfar, Albadah.”

“I can’t wait to see you gagging on my dick, Trumpeter,” the demon taunted, moving into Gabe’s line of sight. Its vessel was conventionally attractive, with its jett black hair and dark eyes, but the damned creature inside was revolting to look at and the thought of such a perverse _thing_ touching him made Gabe want to retch, “To see the Big Guy’s precious son covered in my cum. And, once I’ve finished using your mouth, I’m going to make you present your ass to me like a good little bitch and fuck you raw.”

The moment that Demon Bastard Number Forty-Three was within striking range, Gabe slammed his elbow into its perfect roman-type nose, breaking it with an audible crunching sound. The demon screamed in rage and lunged toward Gabe, its eyes shifting into the menacing black that was the staple for demons, but Gabe’s reaction was quicker and he used the loosened chain lengths to trip the creature up. The demon hit the ground hard and then Gabe was on top of it, wrapping the chains around the throat of its vessel before pulling taut with every reserve of strength he still retained. The stolen face below Gabriel swiftly turned blue from the lack of oxygen and then went slack as the demon abandoned the vessel mere moments before Gabe managed to snap its neck.

The demon fled Gabe’s cell with a ferocious hiss and Gabe wasted no time in shoving its former body away from his person, “Princess Leia managed to make that look way more satisfying.”

It was nothing more than a stay of execution, Gabe knew, but he would cherish the moment of peace, nonetheless. Even as fast as he healed, every inch of him hurt and he doubted that the pain would come close to fading away before he was beset by the fiends of hell once more. Fuck, even breathing was a task to suffer through, but it helped to center him, the constant melodic rhythm of air entering and departing his bruised lungs, helped to keep him grounded and reminded him _why_ he had no recourse but to fight as hard as he was capable.

Samuel William Winchester.

After so long of having nothing at all to fight for, it was comforting, even in Hell, to have a reason to keep battling against Asmodeus for as long as Gabe possibly could - if the Prince broke him, then the man he loved would suffer for it and Gabe could not abide that happening. Asmodeus hated Sam, Dean, and Castiel perhaps even more than he hated God; Gabe had been ridiculously proud to learn that the trio had been successful in stopping the Apocalypse and in trapping Lucifer, Michael, _and_ Raphael inside of the Cage, despite all of the odds stacked against them, but Asmodeus had been furious. With the power boost that Gabe’s Grace would provide him, Asmodeus could exact his revenge with almost no fear of consequence and that was utterly unconscionable.

Slowly, breathing became something far easier to manage and Gabe slipped into something of a doze as he healed, continuing to almost inaudibly recite the names of stars even as he plotted how he was going to viciously murder each and every one of the Demon Bastards - he wondered if he could trademark that epithet - who had dared to harm him. He could list every single instrument that had been used against him since arriving in Hell and match each one to the creature who had wielded it and it was immensely satisfying to imagine using those same devices to punish the demons under Asmodeus’ thumb, but then he _was_ a Trickster as well as an Archangel. The pagan gods who had betrayed him in the first place, those assholes were going to pay in ways far worse, and Gabe had various plans that all revolved around turning Asmodeus inside out the first chance he got, perhaps even literally.

“Chalawan, Chamukuy, Chaophraya, Chara, Chason, Chechia, Chertan.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gabe was left alone for much longer than he had anticipated he would be, and that was disconcerting in it of itself. Anticipation could be a kind of torment, true, but only when it did not last long enough for fear to start to dissipate, and solitary confinement was not a torture that was commonly utilized in Hell because demons generally found it too boring. By the time that Gabe had healed completely from weeks and weeks of abuse, he was certain that something very unpleasant was in the works but was also more resolved than ever to push back.

Almost a full day passed before the door to his cell finally swung open and Asmodeus stepped inside, his countenance schooled to look every bit like the disapproving father he so enjoyed pretending he was, and flicked his fingers toward the corpse, disintegrating it, “You’ve been terribly unreasonable, boy.”

“That part of my nature does tend to surface whenever I’m forced to be around Kentucky Fried Buttholes for prolonged periods of time,” Gabe retorted, eyeing the demon with nothing less than pure disdain. “You have dirt on your tie, by the way.”

Asmodeus looked down immediately, only to realize that the snow white article of clothing was exactly as it should have been. Gabe smirked at the very brief glare he won out of the Prince before Asmodeus forced his expression to smooth back out.

“I hope you know that you’ve brought what’s about to happen on yourself. I didn’t want to have to resort to this, boy, but you just had to be difficult and refuse to share your Grace with me, so you and only you are to blame,” Asmodeus told him. “Now, it’s true that normally I’m much more patient about these kinds of things, but my timetable has had to be sped up, so I had no choice but to bring him into this unpleasant business. Since the Apocalypse didn’t happen, the Alphas have started banding together, three of them have made pledges to each other already, and that’s not good for anyone.”

Eve’s most powerful children banding together for the first time in ten thousand years was, in fact, cause for alarm on multiple levels, but Gabe refused to give Asmodeus the satisfaction of garnering an Archangel’s agreement, “Go fuck yourself.”

“No, boy,” Asmodeus returned, his tone even and brimming with a confidence that was unsettling, snapping his fingers just once and inclining his head toward the open door, “I’m going to fuck him.”

Two hulkish demons entered the room at the command, making the rope-bound, nude form that was struggling wildly between the pair of them seem small in comparison to their girth. A pair of brilliant gold-green-brown eyes met Gabriel’s own and widened in shocked recognition even as Gabe’s heart sunk.

“Sam.” The name came out as barely more than a startled whisper the first time and then as a shout full of anguish and borderline hysteria a heartbeat later, “ _Sam_!”

Gabe did not register that he was moving until he was already on his feet and trying to rush forward. The shackles around his ankles prevented Gabe from managing to progress more than half a foot toward his goal and ensured that he fell back down onto his left side with his hands reaching out in vain in Sam’s direction. Sam’s struggling increased in ferocity, for all the good it did, and the man screamed Gabe’s name through the gag in his mouth.

“Let him go!” Gabe ordered, his hands curling into fists against the stone below them.

“I was going to kill him quickly, you know,” Asmodeus said conversationally, as he grabbed a fistful of Sam’s hair and used it to steer the man onto his knees just out of Gabe’s reach. “He would only have suffered a week at most - humans are so fragile - before I put him out of his misery. I had plans for his soul, his and his big brother’s, that would have let them both rest in peace for a few thousand years.”

Gabe did not want to know what manner of revolting and dark spell that Asmodeus had intended to use Sam’s beautiful soul for; all he cared about was ensuring that it never happened.

“Get away from him, now!” Gabe demanded, his whole body trembling with fury.

“But you had to defy me, boy, and force my hand. This situation is of your making,” Asmodeus scolded Gabe, as if he were a child, and then ‘tsked’ at him several times. “I _need_ power and his bloodline, as you know, is very special in a myriad of ways. Case in point, it’s one of the very few on earth that can support the creation of Nephilim and Cambion regardless of virtue.”

If Gabe had not already wanted to butcher Lucifer’s youngest scion in as painful a way as he could manage, the understanding that came with that atrocious statement would have been more than enough to ensure it. What the son of a bitch was suggesting would break Sam’s heart and destroy his spirit.

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

“As far as breeding mares go, his pedigree is one of the finest. The children he bears for me will be strong and absolutely _delicious_ ,” Asmodeus concluded, shoving Sam down onto his front hard.

“Take it!” Gabe shouted. The Prince tilted his head at him and Gabe continued in a slightly calmer mien, “Take my Grace, Asmodeus. It’s yours, as long as you don’t harm him.”

Sam grunted in protest, shaking his head rapidly at Gabe, though Asmodeus, grinning wickedly, paid his second prisoner’s dissent no mind, “Well, now, there’s an idea. I spare your precious human and you give me regular doses of the power I need to take everything and anything that I desire. I _never_ thought of that.”

“Just don’t hurt him,” Gabe reiterated, sitting up.

Asmodeus nodded sharply and his ridiculously large minions advanced, grabbing a hold of Sam again and pulling him roughly off the ground before marching him over to one of the corners of the cell. A part of Gabe wished that Sam did not have to be present during the imminent extraction - he hated that Sam was going to see, and surely blame himself for, what Asmodeus was about to do - but the more dominant part of him was grateful that Sam had not been taken out of his line of sight. The reality of Sam being in Hell was horrific enough on its own, but the idea of him being in Hell where Gabe could not verify his well being was inexpressibly repellent.

Gabe kept his gaze fixed on Sam as Asmodeus approached in his peripheral vision and refused to visibly react to the large syringe that the demon drew out of his coat pocket, despite the fear settling in his gut, “It’s gonna be okay, Samsquatch.”

Sam did not exactly look convinced and kept fighting against the demons holding him in place.

Asmodeus positioned the needle’s tip directly in the crook where Gabe’s neck met his right shoulder, “Give it up for me, boy.”

Though eons of experience rebelled against the action, Gabe let the shields he had so carefully crafted around his Grace crumble, exposing his essence to the Prince of Hell, who let out a hiss of excitement in response. In that moment, Gabe could not bring himself to care about what horrendous things Asmodeus was going to use his Grace for or how many innocent people were going to suffer. All that mattered was protecting the man he loved.

Gabriel would let Earth and Heaven burn for the sake of Sam Winchester.

The needle being driven into his flesh stung, but he did not respond to the intrusion until it pierced the well of his Grace. For the first time in his existence, Gabe actually feared he was going to be sick and though he managed to breathe through that alarming sensation, he was unable to suppress a full-body shudder.

“This is probably going to hurt quite a bit, but it’ll be over before you know it,” Asmodeus announced, his accent made thicker by the false concern, before beginning to slowly pull the plunger up.

Gabe had never known pain until that instant, as his Grace was leached out of him, and he was so distracted by it that it did not even register with him that he was screaming for a solid minute after he started. The pain ebbed briefly to a dull ache, as the side plug of the syringe reached its capacity and the needle was temporarily removed from Gabe’s neck, but then returned in full force as Asmodeus changed out the plug for an empty one and then jabbed the needle back into place. 

Five times large glass plugs were filled before Asmodeus was satisfied with the amount he had stolen and Gabe forced his eyes open in time to see the demon start to inject himself with the fifth portion. Unwilling to keep watching _that_ , Gabe looked over to the corner again to ensure that Sam was still unharmed and was immediately alarmed by the tears cascading down Sam’s cheeks - he had only seen Sam cry once before and it had broken Gabe’s heart then too. And then he realized that Sam was crying, not because he himself was injured, but because of what had been done to Gabe.

“It’s okay,” Gabe opined, his voice coming out scratchy.

Sam just shook his head at him sadly.

Asmodeus snapped his fingers again and the demons shoved Sam toward the center of the cell. Even with his Grace as depleted as it was, Gabe caught him easily, pulling him close. He used his thumb to wipe away the tear streaking down Sam’s face, relieved to have the man in the relative safety of his arms, “Sam.”

“Thank you, my boy, for proving to me once again that there is nothing more pathetic in all of creation than _love_ ,” Asmodeus said, before turning to his demons. “Feed my angel’s pet cockroach once a day until I return. I have a date with the Alpha Rakshasa.”

Even before the cell door slammed shut behind the three departing demons, Gabe had worked the offensive gag out of Sam’s mouth. He flung the knotted cloth away from them both, wishing ruefully that he was in a position to outright destroy it.

“ _Gabriel_ ,” Sam sobbed the moment he could, “You’re alive. You… I thought…”

“I’m alive,” Gabe assured him, placing a tender kiss to Sam’s forehead, before moving his hands down to start loosening the ropes, “I’m alive, Sam. I’m so sorry. None of this was meant to happen.”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Sam told him, fervent despite his still shaking voice, “You shouldn’t have given that monster your Grace, Gabe. You can’t let him hurt you like that again.”

“Sam-a-lam-”

“ _No_ , Gabe. I‘m not worth that level of protection. Even if I weren’t tainted beyond repair with demon blood, I wouldn’t be worth what Asmodeus did to you,” Sam insisted almost angily.

Gabe halted his efforts to free Sam’s wrists so that he could cup Sam’s face with his palms, “Samuel William Winchester, you are worth everything to me. I chose a side because of you, I stopped hiding because of you. And I will protect you with all that I have, for as long as I exist, because I love you. I should have told you before, I should have told you _every single day_. I love you, Sam, beyond anything else.” 

“I love you too,” Sam whispered, “And I don’t want you to be hurt because of me.”

“Nothing Asmodeus can do to me could possibly compare to how much I would suffer if he harmed you,” Gabe replied, resuming the task of getting the ropes off of Sam.

“Then you know how I felt when he was harming _you_.”

Gabe winced at that, “I’ll heal and my Grace will replenish and in a week it will be as if it never happened.”

“And then Asmodeus will jab you in the neck with that thing again,” Sam huffed.

“Yes, he will,” Gabe conceded, “But it won’t permanently damage me, Sam, and if we have any chance in getting out of this, it’s by avoiding anything that will incur the wrath of demon Colonel Sanders and by playing along with his game until an opportunity to escape presents itself.”

Sam sighed and nodded once, though Gabe suspected it was less because he had accepted the arrangement and more because he did not wish to argue, “What happened? The _DVD…_ you said you were dead.”

“The _DVD_ was a backup that I never actually intended for you all to receive,” Gabe admitted, throwing the last of the ropes away. Sam’s freed arms immediately wound around Gabe’s waist, “In fact, I actively hoped that you would never see it. I only made it at all in case things went really, really bad and I couldn’t impart the plan to you, Dean, and Castiel in person. I came up with the idea to fake my death, in order to throw off Lucifer and Heaven when they showed up to the big fight, while Kali had you and your brother trapped and there wasn’t time to tell you about it before it all went down.”

“Did Lucifer realize that you were trying to trick him?” Sam asked.

“No, Luci didn’t suspect a thing,” Gabe blew out a sharp gust of air. “I was betrayed by several of the old gods whom, up until that moment, I had trusted implicitly - they knew my real identity and had for thousands of years. They hit me with a Nordic binding spell, one specifically designed for beings with power equivalent to an Archangel, and sold me to Asmodeus in exchange for a dozen plump children with AB negative blood.”

“I’m going to kill those pagan sons of bitches,” Sam promised darkly.

“Not if I get to them first,” Gabe responded.

“Lucifer couldn’t have known you were in Hell before he got put back in the Cage,” Sam stated, briefly twisting his lips in aggravation. “He realized that I had fallen in love with you shortly before that day - for all that I tried to keep it from him. He would have tried to use you to bargain with me, to get me to say ‘ _yes_ ’ to him if he promised not to hurt you. It would have worked.”

Gabe supposed that he really had no ground to stand on where it concerned Sam’s willingness to sacrifice everything else for him, “Asmodeus has always been seen as a borderline failure by Lucifer because he is the weakest of my brother’s creations by a large margin. He kept my presence a secret because he wanted to _prove himself_ to his father.”

“And he’s been torturing you ever since,” Sam deduced, burying his face in Gabe’s neck. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re not to blame for anything that demon has done,” Gabe said, carding one of his hands through Sam’s hair.

“I should have known you needed me.”

“I was far too much a coward for that to be a possibility,” Gabe intoned, the words soft and self-deprecating. He cleared his throat, “I needed you safe, more than anything else, and I hoped that you were. I was afraid you’d run yourself into the ground with hunts, since that’s apparently the patented Winchester way of dealing with emotional upheaval of all sorts.”

“I went back to Princeton, to finish my degree,” Sam offered, meeting Gabe’s eyes again.

“That’s _wonderful_ ,” Gabe was surprised, but hardly upset by the news.

From the minute that Sam had divulged his desire to return to school, to have a life free of hunts and battles, Gabe had been advocating for Sam to do so. Gabe had doubted Sam would ever actually be able to make himself pursue his own happiness, though, due to the way that all of his pure and good and intellectual goals had been regarded in the past by Sam’s loved ones.

“Dean didn’t think so,” Sam confided. “I actually haven’t spoken to him since the day I told him I was going back to school. He accused me of running away from my responsibilities like I always do and reiterated our dad’s favorite ‘ _you’re a selfish bastard and innocent people will die because of you_ ’ line.”

Dean loved Sam beyond reason - there was no doubting that - but he also had never been able to accept that Sam had grown up or that the life his brother really wanted was one that Dean could not control. As convoluted as it was to anyone with any modicum of sense, Dean had managed to convince himself that Sam was safer hunting than living a monster-free life as a lawyer and refused to revise his opinion on the matter.

“I know you love him, kiddo, but your big brother can give an ass a good name,” Gabe declared. “Honestly, he would benefit from some major therapy.”

“I’m pretty sure we all would,” Sam agreed. “ _If_ Dean realizes that I’ve been taken, it won’t be soon.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Gabe determined, because he would not stand for Sam to remain a prisoner of Hell for any great length of time. 

He _would_ see Sam free to live the beautiful life that he deserved, if it was the last thing that Gabe did.

“Asmodeus said ‘ _delicious_ ’ when he was talking about me bearing his kids,” Sam remarked, barely breathing in his attempt to portray calm. “Would he really eat his own children?”

“To gain power, without hesitation,” Gabe confirmed, absorbing Sam’s full-body shudder.

“ _God_ ,” Sam dry heaved.

Gabe rubbed soothing circles into the small of Sam’s back and promised, “I won’t let him do that to you; I would never let him hurt your babies, Sam.” Because, Cambion or human or whatever, Sam would adore any children he had, would love them unconditionally from the start, and he was not likely to survive losing them. “I’m impressed by how calmly you’re taking the male pregnancy thing, by the way.”

“I knew that male virgins could be forced to bear Cambion just as easily as females, because of the research I did after we met Jesse,” Sam explained, “But I didn’t know that my bloodline was the exception to the virgin clause. Does that mean that you could have gotten me pregnant?”

Gabe really should not have been so enamored by that idea, given how history had played out, “Not without intent, and there was no way I would have intended any such thing before the Apocalypse was stopped.”

Sam blinked rapidly at him, “And now?”

“Ask me again when we’re out of this mess, when neither one of us is emotionally traumatized and/or compromised,” Gabe told him.

Sam’s smile was radiant, “Okay.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Good morning, Sam-a-lam,” Gabe said in a sing-song voice, twisting strands of Sam’s hair around his fingers and then letting them slip off again.

Sam had eventually fallen asleep, after much cajoling from Gabe, about seven hours before. He had been afraid that Gabe would be taken away from him while he slept, even though Gabe had sworn to wake Sam back up if he thought there was any chance at all of a demon entering the cell, and had only finally succumbed to his exhaustion after Gabe had sung Enochian lullabies to him for over an hour. Even in his sleep, Sam had clung to Gabe - not that Gabe minded, since he had every intention of never letting Sam go again.

“Is it morning?” Sam questioned, as he sat up in the circle of Gabe’s arms and stretched with a yawn.

Gabe shrugged, “Close enough, I suppose. Measuring time in Hell is tricky.”

“Even before you take into account the time dilation spells,” Sam acknowledged, before worrying at his lip with his teeth - a sure sign that he wanted to ask a question but did not know how it would be received.

“What’s wrong, kiddo?”

“What did you mean, last night, when you said that there was a possibility I could’ve known you were alive?” Sam asked hesitantly.

Gabe really should have known that Sam would catch that, “There’s a bonding ritual that was created for situations like ours.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at him, “For a borderline forbidden relationship between an Archangel and an abomination?”

“You,” Gabe huffed, flicking Sam’s nose, “are _not_ an abomination, Sam.”

“You’re one of the very few angels who believes that,” Sam pointed out.

“Yeah, well, most of the Heavenly Host shares a single I.Q. point,” Gabe announced dismissively before refocusing, “The ritual is used to bind a mortal and an immortal together so that they can never truly be parted from one another - in life or death. It’s pagan as fuck, of course, but… I wanted it terribly.”

“You never mentioned it,” Sam murmured.

“Because I was terrified by that want,” Gabe admitted, “By my love for you. When I ran away from Heaven, I swore to never _care_ about anyone again, so that I could never be hurt like Dad and my brothers hurt me. I succeeded in not caring for a very long time, but then I met you. The day I realized that I loved you, loved you more than I had ever loved any of my family, I had a rather epic meltdown - stay far away from the Bermuda triangle for at least a few decades, by the way. Even after I began to accept that my heart wasn’t made of adamantium, I hesitated… and I paid the price for it. If I hadn’t been an utter coward, you would have known that I was still alive, and even if I had died at Lucifer’s hand, my Grace would have protected you for the short period of time it took for me to come back.”

“Come back?”

“Two individuals who have successfully performed the ritual together - both participants must love one another unconditionally or it will fail - can only be truly killed if both die at the same time,” Gabe stated. “The mortal stops ageing and will return to their bonded mate if they die; not even Heaven and Hell can stop such a soul from being restored to life.”

“Do we have to sacrifice a virgin goose covered in pearl dust on a Blue Moon, or something, to complete the ritual?” Sam wanted to know.

Gabe laughed at that, “No, nothing so complex. The ritual is a spoken pledge that is sanctified with intercourse and the desire to fuse my Grace and your Soul together.”

“What do I have to say, Gabe?” 

And though there could have been no mistaking the intent behind the query, Gabe still had to be sure, “Sam?”

“I want it too,” Sam related with absolute surety. “I would have wanted it months ago if I’d thought it was an option for us. I’ve known for a long time that you are _it_ for me.”

Gabe simply had to kiss him then, there was nothing else for it, so it was several minutes later before he got out, “Repeat after me?”

“Okay,” Sam nodded. 

“Fate’s design, I abrogate, and all plans Divine, I do spurn,” Gabe began.

Sam recited the line without pause, “Fate’s design, I abrogate, and all plans Divine, I do spurn.”

“This path, I forge of mine own will and none other, under sun and star,” Gabe continued, tangling his fingers together with Sam’s as the man repeated the verse.

“I, Gabriel, bind myself to thee, Samuel, evermore,” Gabe said.

Sam switched their names without needing to be prompted, “I, Samuel, bind myself to thee, Gabriel, evermore.”

“For my love for you knows no limits or conditions,” Gabe chanted. “It is timeless, spaceless, formless, unshakeable, and unbreakable.”

Sam echoed the sentiment and then Gabe went on, “From this moment, until the end of all things, your glories shall be my glories, your sorrows shall be my sorrows, your enemies shall be my enemies, your dreams shall be my dreams.”

“From this moment, until the end of all things, your glories shall be my glories, your sorrows shall be my sorrows, your enemies shall be my enemies, your dreams shall be my dreams.”

“I shall be the shield that defends you. I shall be the sword that strikes for you. I shall be the light that guides you. I shall be the shadow that hides you,” Gabe touched his forehead to Sam’s as he spoke and kept it there as Sam repeated the promise.

“I take you with all your strengths,” Gabe leaned back enough to look Sam directly in the eye, “And I take you with all your weaknesses.”

Tears unshed made Sam’s eyes seem even more vibrant than they normally looked, “I take you with all your strengths, and I take you with all your weaknesses.”

“This is my solemn vow: that we two are, and shall forever be, a single mind and a single heart. We are one, so mote it be,” Gabe finished.

“This is my solemn vow: that we two are, and shall forever be, a single mind and a single heart. We are one, so mote it be.”

Flesh met flesh and Grace met Soul with no further discussion, their very essences magnetized toward one another as a most ancient and pagan magic wove its way around and through them in a staggering manner. The ensuing sex was, even by their standards, phenomenal - at the peak of their pleasure, Gabriel had been unable to separate any facet of his being from Sam’s - and they came at the same time, with Gabe’s cock deep inside of Sam.

“Gabe,” Sam gasped out several minutes later, as they were basking in the profuse afterglow of their bond settling, “I can see your wings.”

“You’re my bonded mate,” Gabe acknowledged, still a bit dizzy as one of the apparent side effects of the ritual had been the sudden replenishing of his Grace. “No part of me is hidden from you and no part of me can harm you - you could look upon me in my divine form and not be adversely affected by it.”

“They’re _beautiful_ ,” Sam exclaimed in wonder, before reaching out to stroke the golden feathers of one of Gabe’s left wings in a way that sent pleasure jolting up Gabe’s spine.

“Come on, Sam,” a new voice complained from a few feet away, “I didn’t need to see that.”

Gabe twisted around at once, placing Sam behind him as he stood, and was confronted by the mind-boggling sight of one Chuck Shurley grimacing at the pair of them. How the Prophet had gotten into the cell was anyone’s guess, as the door was still firmly shut, but there he was.

“I mean, congrats on your marriage, and all,” Chuck elaborated, gesturing at them wildly with both hands, “But, no father wants to bear witness to the sex shenanigans his son gets up to.”

Realization struck Gabe then, like several thousand bolts of lighting.

“Um, what?” Sam questioned, bemused.

“Hi, Dad,” Gabe greeted in a wry tone.

“ _What_?” Sam went from moderately confused to completely aghast.

“Son,” God returned with a nod. He flicked two fingers at Gabe and Sam, and the two were suddenly dressed in clean, comfortable clothing; the chains and, more importantly, the Nordic spell suppressing Gabe’s powers dissolved into nothing, “That’s much better. Don’t you think?”

“How did you find us?” Gabe asked.

It should have been impossible. Not only because Gabe had cloaked himself from his father using a mixture of divine and pagan spells when he ran, but also because Asmodeus had used similar means to hide the entire section of Hell that the demon utilized as a secret base from pretty much everyone and everything.

“The ritual you two used broadcasted a signal of love-fueled defiance to every supernatural creature with the means of detecting it - that’s part of how it works, kid,” God illuminated. “That signal can’t be concealed by anything. It was felt by every primordial entity in existence. The ritual has occurred just often enough that it would have hardly been exceptional this time, _but_ the very unique blend of Archangel Grace and human Soul ensconced in the signal told me all I needed to know about who had bound themselves together in actual Hell.”

“Ah,” Gabe said, succinct if nothing else.

“You don’t need to raise your hand to ask a question, Sam,” God uttered next.

Gabe turned to see that Sam had, in fact, raised his hand.

“Yes, Sir,” Sam responded, flushing slightly. “Um, you’re not mad?”

“Oh, I’m veritably incensed,” God told him.

Gabe whipped his head back around to glare furiously at his father.

“But not with you or with Gabriel,” God clarified, and then spoke to Gabe, “Stop giving me the smiting look, kid, I invented the smiting look.” God looked back at Sam, “I’m proud of you two, of Dean, and Castiel for what you accomplished, for refusing to give in or give up. Do I wish I’d been invited to your wedding? Obviously, but there was no helping that.”

“Oh,” Sam managed, “Okay. Um… we can have a human ceremony if you like?”

“We can?” Gabe questioned.

“You can be in completely charge of the cake and dessert bar,” Sam suggested. “How about we include a dozen chocolate fondue fountains, with all the Melting Pot flavors?”

“We can,” Gabe agreed.

His father laughed, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. First, though,” God snapped His fingers and Asmodeus appeared before them, looking far more disheveled than Gabe had ever seen the Prince, “I took care of its minions on the way in, but I believe you wanted to personally turn this _thing_ inside out, Son.”

“You can’t do this!” Asmodeus growled out, a bit desperately. “Hell is my father’s domain, not yours!”

“The ignorance that Lucifer has perpetuated in his minions is quite perturbing, really,” God pronounced, looking remarkably undisturbed. “I _created_ Hell, you unenlightened cretin, just as I created Heaven and Earth and Purgatory and everything else. I appointed my Morning Star as its ruler - terribly underestimating his jealousy regarding humans - but that _never_ meant his authority here surpassed my own.”

“Why would _you_ create Hell?” Asmodeus demanded to know.

“To contain Amara,” God answered, and Gabe exhaled sharply at the reminder of the Darkness that was his aunt. “Heaven was for the Souls who behaved well on earth during their mortal lives and Hell was meant to be a place of eternal sleep, with each Soul here an added lock on Her prison. The torture that is common now was one of Lucifer’s more unfortunate inventions, and one of the several crimes that he was sentenced to a stint in the Cage for.”

“Amara?” Sam asked quietly, taking Gabe’s hand into one of his own.

“My sister,” God explained. “The Yin to my Yang, the Dark to my Light, the Nothingness to my Being, the Destroyer of Creation. I don’t recommend meeting up with her.”

“Lies!” Asmodeus insisted.

Gabe had reacted before he even realized it, slamming Asmodeus against the wall that was closest with his Grace, “Do not _ever_ question my Father’s integrity again.”

“He lied about being a prophet,” Asmodeus croaked.

“Actually, He created prophets,” Sam pointed out, “He’s literally the Prophet of all prophets, so…”

“I don’t particularly enjoy subterfuge,” God shrugged, “But, I also stand by my decision to give everyone free will. I stopped paying attention when I had to punish Lucifer, and I missed things that I never should have.” He looked over at Gabe with clear remorse, “It took thousands of years to even begin correcting that mistake and it will be millenia more before I succeed. Michael, Raphael, and Lucifer had to _fail_ , not just be told to stop by dad, or they would simply postpone the Apocalypse for a few hundred years and then try again.”

“What Mikey and Raph did to me wasn’t your fault, Dad,” Gabe said. “I was upset that you left us, but I never blamed you for what they _chose_ to do. I knew… I knew you were grieving Luci.”

“You’re a better son than I deserve,” God replied. “It was my fault, kid. I was so wrapped up in my own pain that I ignored what grief was festering inside your brothers and you paid for it. I am so sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Gabe returned immediately.

Asmodeus scoffed, “Weakness abounds in you, I see.”

“Oh, do shut up, you dumbass,” Gabe snapped, igniting the demon with a quick gesture.

Asmodeus screamed, the sound loud but brief, as he and his vessel were reduced to ashes in less than fifteen seconds, ending his iniquitous reign. Gabe would have liked to have drawn it out a bit more and really make Asmodeus suffer for what he had done, but for as much of a BAMF as Sam was, Gabe would never purposefully expose the man he loved to such things - Sam deserved beauty and marvel and light and Gabe was determined to give it to him.

His father snapped his fingers a second time and they were no longer in Hell but instead in a sparsely furnished dorm room, “You know, I made sure California Kings were invented for a reason, Sam. That bunk bed cannot be comfortable for someone of your height.”

“I’m not allowed to change out the furniture,” Sam told Him. “It was in the handbook. Besides, I’ve slept on far worse.”

“How attached are you to living here?” God asked.

“Not very,” Sam answered, to Gabe’s immense relief.

God smiled, “Great, that’ll be your wedding present then.”

“What will?” Sam wondered, tilting his head.

“Your castle,” God proclaimed.

“Castle,” Sam responded faintly. “Gabe?”

“He’s serious,” Gabe rejoined, without needing to do any kind of explication of the one word question. “How do you feel about moats, Samsquatch?”

“Well, I’ve always kinda wanted to swim in one,” Sam remarked, giving in to the madness.

“Fantastic! By the way,” God declared with a wink and a cheeky smile, before He popped away, “They were called Nephilim, because the Fallen _took_ spouses - there was no consent or love involved in their creation. I’m not at all opposed to having grand-babies with wings.”

“Did He just…” Sam trailed off.

“Give us His permission to create a brand new species? Yes,” Gabe determined. “Yes, He did.”

* * *

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The obsession with winged-babies is totally Keira Marcos and Jilly James' fault, ;)


End file.
